


Wrong Memory 2: Wizarding Memories

by BrennaLynn



Series: Wrong Memory [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4971856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrennaLynn/pseuds/BrennaLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Dawn receives yet another set of memories from Tom's reality. This time of a set of movies and the books they are based upon. Can she change the life of Willow's nephew Harry Potter?</p><p>A/U: Set post Chosen in my Wrong Memory Universe and 8 years after Wrong Memory 1: Key Memories (or 6 years after the wedding in the epilogue).</p><p>Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy owns Buffy. J.K. Rowlings owns Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**_June 2011_ **

Dawn sat looking out the window of hers and Willow’s home on the outskirts of London looking at the wintery landscape as she thought back on the years after the battle of Sunnydale.

There had been of course the double wedding on her birthday where she had married Willow and Buffy had married Faith.

She had gotten her Bachelor’s, Master’s and Doctorate degrees over the eight years after the Battle of Sunnydale.

She smiled as she thought about her goddaughter Jessica. Anya had given birth during after that final battle.

“What are you thinking about?”

Dawn turned to see Willow standing in the doorway leading toward the kitchen. She smiled at Willow as she crossed the room and pulled her beloved into an embrace and kissed her passionately. “Just all that has happened since the Battle of Sunnydale.”

“I know what you mean,” Willow replied, “especially with what happened last year.”

Dawn thought back and nodded in agreement. Buffy and Faith had decided they wanted a child. But neither of them wanted some unknown person for the father. That left only three guys they trusted for the job; Oz, Xander and Giles. Oz had long since married to a female werewolf in Tibet and had two children, both of whom had inherited the werewolf genes from their parents. While Oz told them he had been happy they had thought of him, he had to decline. Seeing how Buffy and Faith would have to restrain their child on the nights of the full moon.

So Buffy and Faith had approached Giles, who also declined. He had always seen himself as the patriarch of the group which meant that Buffy, Dawn, Faith, Willow, Anya, Xander and all the other former Scoobies had been his children in all but blood and he was happy for it to remain that way.

That left Xander. At first Anya was against it, but Xander somehow managed to sway her and she consented. So Xander became the father to Buffy and Faith’s daughter who had been born earlier in the year.

“You’re right of course,” Dawn told Willow. “You know I never figured Xander would be the one to father Joyce.”

“But he did, and he is a good man,” Willow said. “I know that from experience, after all I’ve known him for twenty-three years. “

Just then a letter flew through the mail slot and landed on floor by the front door as Dawn went over and picked it up. “Will, it’s addressed to you,” she told her lover.

Willow walked over to Dawn, who handed her the letter. She opened and began to read.

_Dear Mrs. Willow Danielle Rosenberg-Summers nee Evans,_

_Allow me to introduce myself; I am Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I would like to meet you and your wife, and Slayer, Dawn Marie Rosenberg-Summers at the Leaky Cauldron on July thirty-first at ten o’clock in the morning. It is a matter of utmost importance._

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry_


	2. Willow's Family

The bartender of the Leaky Cauldron watched as two women walked in. Even from across the room he could tell the redhead was a powerful witch. Very likely on par with Albus Dumbledore and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. For the redheaded witch was none other than Willow Rosenberg, the witch that had almost ended the world.

Everyone in the wizarding world knew of her from that event. They also knew of her from another event a year later. Well her and the woman with her, Dawn Rosenberg-Summers, Willow Rosenberg’s wife. For the two of them had activated all the Potential Slayers in the world and made them Slayers.

“Greetings ladies,” he said as they approached him. “Is there anything I can do for you two?”

“We’re looking for Albus Dumbledore,” Dawn said. “We were told to meet him here.”

“He is not here,” the bartender said.

“Tom,” came a voice, “I am right here.”

Tom followed the sound of the voice and saw Dumbledore standing in the entrance that led to Diagon Alley.

“Ms. Rosenberg-Summers, I presume?” Dumbledore asked.

“Dawn, yes,” Dawn said. “And this is my wife, Willow.”

Dumbledore nodded and motioned toward a table. “Tom, three butterbeers,” he said as he gazed at Willow and smiled. He noted how much she looked like her sister. He smiled and nodded to himself, if everything worked out the way he planned she would take Harry in and away from her sister, Petunia Dursley. He wondered if Willow remembered her life with her sisters.

Tom nodded and brought the drinks as Dawn, Willow and Dumbledore sat at the table.

“I’d wager,” Dumbledore said. “That you both would like to know why you have been asked here. I will get straight to the point. I am in need of your services. I have a student at my school that is being targeted by a former student of mine. The student’s name is Harry Potter and the one who has targeted him is known as Voldemort.”

Quite a few of the patrons let out a gasp upon hearing the name.

“As you can guess,” Dumbledore said as he waved his hand towards the other patrons. “His name is not mentioned. He is generally referred to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Several years ago there was a war that most muggles, what we call mortals, did not know about. Voldemort,” there were several gasps again, “sought to make sure magic stayed in pure blood families. Half-Blood would be regulated and Muggle-borns, such as yourselves, would be outlawed from practicing magic at all. Then came the prophecy that Harry would face him and Voldemort went to kill Harry to stop the prophecy. Harry was left orphaned and Voldemort well disappeared. Last year Voldemort tried to return and almost succeeded, while at the same time almost killing Harry.”

“What is it you wish us to do?” Willow asked.

“Teach,” Dumbledore said. “The two of you would be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts. This way you can help to protect Harry without being obtrusive.”

“And if we accept,” Dawn said.

“I will take you to get wands and robes,” Dumbledore said, “Tutor the two of you privately over the remainder of the summer. And then you will teach the next term.”

“We will do it,” Dawn said.

Dumbledore led them out through the rear entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. He motioned for them to step back and took out his wand and tapped a brick three times. The bricks moved aside to allow them passage into Diagon Alley.

“A glamour spell?” Dawn asked.

“No,” Dumbledore said as he glanced at Willow and Dawn. “A portal spell, though different than what you two are accustomed to.”

“You know what we house?” Willow asked.

Dumbledore led them through opening, which closed behind them, and down the street. “I didn’t when I sent you both the invitation to meet me. I do now though. The Key gives off a unique magical signature that any witch or wizard properly attuned can see, as well as many muggles.

“You’re talking about a person being crazy,” Dawn said. “Only those outside reality can see the Key's true nature.”

“True,” Dumbledore said.

“Which would mean you’re crazy,” Dawn said.

“Partially,” Dumbledore said as he stopped in front of a door. “You don’t get to be over a hundred years old and not be at least partially crazy. Ah here we are.” He led them through the door and into what was obviously a dress shop.

“Professor,” said a woman as she stepped out of the back.

“Greetings Madam,” Dumbledore said. “I have two new staff here for the coming term. Could you please see that they get robes?”

“Of course,” the woman said. “Follow me.” She led Willow and Dawn into the back room where they were measured and then fitted for robes. When they were finished they were escorted back to Dumbledore who took them down the street to another shop and inside.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice causing Dawn and Willow to turn and face an elderly gentleman.

“Hello,” said Dawn and Willow together.

“Professor,” the man said. “What can I do for you today?”

“Well Mrs. Rosenberg-Summers and Mrs. Rosenberg need wands, Ollivander. They are muggle-born Wiccan witches. I will be tutoring them privately and then they will be teaching Defense this coming term.”

“So you didn’t hire, Lockhart?” Ollivander asked.

“Not for Defense, no,” Dumbledore said. “I hired him for History of Magic. Professor Binns is actually taking a sabbatical, which surprised me seeing how he’s a ghost.”

“Ah,” he said as a smile crossed his face. “Well, now who’s first?” Dawn stepped forward as he pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. “Which is your wand arm?”

“Well, I’m right-handed,” said Dawn.

“Hold out your arm. That’s it.” He measured Dawn from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. As he measured, he said, “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mrs. Rosenberg-Summers. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.”

Ollivander started flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes. “Right then, Mrs. Rosenberg-Summers. Try this one. Willow and dragon heartstring. Ten inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.”

Dawn took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once.

“Beechwood and phoenix feather. Nine inches. Quite whippy. Try —”

Dawn tried — but she had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Ollivander.

“No, no — here, willow and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out.”

Dawn took the wand. She felt sudden warmth in her fingers. She raised the wand above her head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like fireworks, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Mr. Ollivander cried, “Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. You must be very pure of heart and soul. Now Mrs. Rosenberg. I believe I have the perfect wand for you. Willow and the heartstring of a dragon, nine inches.”

Willow took the wand and gave it a wave as sparks shot out from the end.

Ollivander smiled. “Much as I thought. That wand was created for another muggle-born who was the daughter of a Wiccan witch,” he said.

Dumbledore paid Ollivander and they exited the shop heading up the street just as a man and a boy came out of an adjoining street. Well man wasn’t quite right; he was taller than most men and wider too.

“Hagrid,” Dumbledore said, “and Harry. What was he doing down Knockturn Alley, Hagrid?”

“He got separated from the Weasley’s,” Hagrid said. “First time traveling by floo, missed the correct grate likely by one stop.”

“Mom?” Harry said as Willow looked at him.

“You never said the last name of the boy, Professor,” Willow said noting that that Harry looked like Lily’s boyfriend, James.

Dumbledore smiled as he looked at Willow and could see she did indeed remember her sisters. “Willow Rosenberg, nee Evans,” he said. “May I introduce you to your nephew … Harry Potter.”

Dawn’s eyes went wide as she looked at Willow. “You never told me you were adopted, baby,” she said.

“What are you talking about, Professor?” Harry asked Dumbledore. “Aunt Petunia is my mom’s only family left.”

“Not true, Harry,” Dumbledore said to Harry. “She was the only family I could place you with at the time.”

Willow glanced at Dawn. “I never told anyone I was adopted, baby. Not even Xander or Jessie. There was an accident and mom and dad were killed. Petunia, Lily and I were the only survivors. I was adopted by an American couple.”

“Why didn’t she come visit?” Harry asked. “Why …”

Willow looked at Harry. “Because I wasn’t allowed to. Lily and Petunia were put into foster care here. I was adopted by a couple in the U.S. Add on top of that, that my adoption was closed which meant that if you are under eighteen there is no contact with any other living relatives. I was still underage when Lily and James got married, so I wasn’t informed. I tried writing to them once about ten years ago, the mail came back as undeliverable. Upon checking I found out that they had died.”

“A news article would have mentioned me surviving though,” Harry said.

“The news article I found believed you had died with them. I didn’t know you were still alive,” Willow said. “Now you’re probably wondering why I never went to see Petunia when I turned eighteen. I hated my sister for what she put Lily through when we were kids. I wanted nothing to do with her.”

“Harry! Harry! Over here!”

They looked up and saw a young girl about Harry’s age standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.

“What happened to your glasses? Hello, Hagrid. Hello Professor.”

“Hello, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said. “Harry, I would like to have a moment with you if I could.”

“Sure, Professor,” Harry said as he walked away with Dumbledore.

“You must forgive me, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “If I had any alternative eleven years ago, I would have placed you with your aunt Willow. I tried to find her as she was of age but was unable to, till recently.”

“Why?” Harry asked. “Where had she been?”

“The Hellmouth,” Dumbledore said as Harry’s eyes went wide. “You’ve heard of it in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes?”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said. “And I understand why you were unable to find her when she was younger. The magical energy that comes from the Hellmouth hid her. But what about recently?”

“To tell the truth I had long thought she might be dead,” Dumbledore said. “When I had learned of her adoption by the American couple I had placed a spell upon her so that I would know where she was. Then she disappeared. All further tracking spells had failed. We of course know why now, but I didn’t know then. And so I thought she had died.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief. At least he knew now why this supposed aunt had never shown up. Between her hatred for his aunt Petunia, the American legal system, and Dumbledore’s belief …

“Now, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “You know why I have had you remain at your aunts.”

“Because of the protection my mother left upon me,” Harry said.

“That’s right,” Dumbledore said. “It is my intention to let you choose who you live with. The protection that your mother left will work with either of your aunts. But you do not need to choose at this very moment. After the term begins you can get to know Willow. I will give you the year, Harry. By the end of term next Spring I will expect your decision.”

“I understand Professor,” Harry said as they walked back to Hermione, Willow and Dawn.

Dumbledore then left with Dawn and Willow.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Wrong Memory 2 was to be Atlantis Memories (which takes place in Stargate Atlantis). But since Wizarding Memories is set between the Key Memories and Atlantis Memories I made Wizarding Memories, Wrong Memory 2, which meant adding a short prologue to explain some stuff that had been written into Atlantis memories and were referred to in Wizarding Memories.


End file.
